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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27792415">We're Friends When You're on Your Knees</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PadawanRyan/pseuds/PadawanRyan'>PadawanRyan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fall Out Boy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Christmas gift, Daddy Kink, House Party, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Merry Christmas!, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Hiatus (Fall Out Boy), Spanking, Underage Patrick</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:46:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,191</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27792415</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PadawanRyan/pseuds/PadawanRyan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Somewhere in the crowd, Pete knew he was there. He had a sense for knowing when Patrick was nearby, he couldn’t explain it — nobody had to tell him that Patrick was at this party, least of all Patrick, because Pete knew the moment he stepped in the front door.</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>We're Friends When You're on Your Knees</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardust_empyrean/gifts">stardust_empyrean</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, I was approached about a month ago with a prompt for a fic. I suggested that I could write the prompt as a Christmas gift and added it to the list of fics I had to write before the end of the year, seeing as I was already signed up for a holiday exchange and had also committed to doing the Merry Little Peterick challenge. However, when I actually started writing, I deviated a little bit from that original idea, not because I couldn't write it but rather because this is simply what came out naturally — and I always follow my natural urges when writing, it's how so many of these fics write themselves!</p><p>Merry Christmas, Nyan! This was a delight to write, and while I deviated a slight bit from your original prompt (and may subconsciously have been inspired by your WIP), I am certain that you will absolutely love this.</p><p>Enjoy! &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Any other night, Pete might have been fine with throwing back drink after drink and maybe finding a drunk, desperate, wet pussy into which he could sink his dick. There were so many girls at the party who would sleep with him. Pete was hot and he knew it.</p><p>But no, this was not any other night.</p><p>Because <em>he</em> was there.</p><p>Somewhere in the crowd, Pete knew he was there. He had a sense for knowing when Patrick was nearby, he couldn’t explain it — nobody had to tell him that Patrick was at this party, least of all Patrick, because Pete knew the moment he stepped in the front door.</p><p>However, he wasn’t going to do anything about it. Yet.</p><p>He would let Patrick have his freedom. Patrick never quite believed that Pete could <em>sense</em> his presence, so Patrick would have no idea that Pete knew he was there. Surely, Patrick had to expect that Pete might show up sooner or later – the party was held by one of <em>his</em> friends, someone Patrick had met <em>through</em> Pete – but the boy was not waiting by the front door for Pete, so he clearly didn’t understand that Pete would <em>know</em>.</p><p>Pete would let him have his fun, but only because he knew that Patrick belonged to him and that, eventually, Patrick would have to submit.</p><p>Sometimes you had to let the dog off the leash, so Pete sipped his drink slowly – it wouldn’t do to get drunk when he had to keep his mind and his Patrick sense clear – and looked out for a girl. He wasn’t going to sink his dick into anyone tonight – depending on how good Patrick could be when Pete found him – but he could have his own fun in the meantime.</p><p>It would be even better if Patrick happened upon Pete in a dark corner with his hand up some girl’s shirt, his mouth on her neck.</p><p>Maybe he would think twice about hiding things from Pete.</p><p>But it only took about twenty minutes of making out with Sarah/Samantha/Sandra/whatever her name was before Pete got <em>bored</em>. She was too demanding, and while Pete certainly slept with people who would not submit to him in the same way Patrick would, it was not something he wanted at that moment. There was too much tongue, too many hands, and she didn’t seem too happy that Pete didn’t want to find an empty room with her. Pete left her with the excuse of getting another drink and disappeared into the crowd.</p><p>And that was when his Patrick sense began blaring in his head.</p><p>Patrick was in the room.</p><p>Pete scanned the crowd for a sight of strawberry blonde hair. There were so many people, he was almost sure he would never be able to spot the short boy with the hordes towering over him, when suddenly he saw them: those wet, plush lips turned into a smile as he laughed at something someone said and took a sip from his red plastic cup.</p><p>He would have to be subtle. Although he wanted to show everyone that Patrick was <em>his</em>, he also liked the secret.</p><p>He liked the fact that he could do whatever he wanted to Patrick and nobody would know, that Patrick could stand there and laugh at whatever jokes Adam/Aaron/Andrew made and nobody would suspect that the seventeen year old could, only minutes later, be on his knees for Pete, apologizing for his sins and promising him fealty, begging for Pete’s cock as though he could not live without it. Pete liked all he had to do was look at Patrick and the kid would get instantly hard, knowing that Pete already had something planned for him, regardless of where the were or who else was around them.</p><p>However, people also knew that Pete was a) an asshole, and b) ridiculous. So, nobody batted an eye when Pete approached the group, bumped Patrick’s cup, and, before the teenager could react, pushed up Patrick’s beer-soaked shirt to lick his sticky chest.</p><p>“Pete!” the boy hissed. “What the fuck are you doing?”</p><p>The guys that Patrick had been hanging out with laughed at the scene playing out in front of them. Pete grinned up at Patrick. “You don’t think I’m letting that go to waste, do you?”</p><p>Patrick squirmed and tried to shove Pete away, and Pete knew there were two reasons for this: Patrick didn’t want people to see his chest (the kid was self-conscious, though <em>why</em> was something Pete would never understand), and he was <em>hard</em>. There was nothing more satisfying than knowing just how <em>easily</em> he could turn on the kid. There was something about that youthful face, those falsely innocent eyes, those <em>sinfully</em> pouty lips that Pete could not resist.</p><p>“I’m gonna go clean up,” Patrick muttered as he pulled away and turned toward the stairs.</p><p>Pete lingered behind a moment longer. Finally, after giving a grunt or two in response to whatever conversation was happening around him – he wasn’t actually paying attention – Pete excused himself to use the bathroom. It must have been subtle enough, because nobody said anything or even glanced at Pete as he, too, turned toward the stairs. It had been a few minutes so he couldn’t imagine that Patrick was still in the bathroom. Pete checked the bathroom first anyway, just to be sure, before continuing down the hall and peeking into each room.</p><p>And in the final bedroom at the end of the hall, what looked like a teenage girl’s bedroom, there he found him:</p><p>Patrick. Kneeling. Waiting.</p><p>He was still wearing he beer-soaked shirt, probably in case someone else had happened upon the room while he waited. Pete knew that Patrick would rather be found kneeling than shirtless in any manner, a point on which Pete had learned to concede — it would not do to have Patrick unwilling to engage with him <em>at all</em> because Pete’s demands were too much. Patrick’s head remained down, but the boy would have seen Pete’s feet, would have <em>known</em> that the man who entered the room was his master.</p><p>“My good boy,” Pete said as he closed the door behind him. “Or are you?”</p><p>Patrick did not lift his head. He did not do anything to suggest that he had heard Pete. It seemed that now, at least, he was ensuring to please the man.</p><p>“You didn’t tell me that you would be here.”</p><p>Pete was impressed that he hadn't heard an argument yet. Patrick could be quite formative when he felt like it. “You may speak,” he told the boy. Head still down, Patrick confirmed aloud, “No, I didn’t know you’d be here.”</p><p>Stepping closer, Pete leaned down to place a finger beneath the boy’s chin and lift his head. Patrick steadfastly kept his gaze down, not looking at Pete without his permission, but his lips parted in anticipation. “Eager, are we?” Pete asked. Patrick didn’t respond. Pete really didn’t want to have to punish him, not here in some girl’s bedroom while a party roared on downstairs – not where he couldn’t take his time and draw it out as long as he wanted – but such deceptions had to be discouraged.</p><p>“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked the teen, hand still beneath the boy’s face.</p><p>“Yes, sir.”</p><p>“Really? Do you think you deserve it?” The boy gulped before responding, “I’m sorry, I meant to tell you I’d be here, but it slipped my mind.” Pete doubted that, the kid was seventeen years old and rebellious. However, he said nothing. “But I am here now for you, aren’t I?”</p><p>“You are,” Pete confirmed. “Do you think that makes you deserving of my cock?”</p><p>More hesitation.</p><p>Then— “Only you can decide that, sir. But I hope you can see that I am trying to be good for you.”</p><p>He had to admit, it was a good answer. Patrick clearly felt that he deserved it but wouldn’t dare voice that to man in front of him. The kid was attempting to manipulate the master manipulator. It would take more than that to convince Pete that it was the truth, but he could further manipulate their situation by pretending that he believed it. Patrick would become more bold if he thought that Pete bought his bullshit, and then Pete could <em>really</em> punish him. But that would have to wait for another day.</p><p>“I can see you trying,” he told the boy, “but that does not pardon you.” Releasing Patrick’s chin, he commanded, “On the bed. You know what to do.”</p><p>Pete watched as the teen scrambled to his feet, unbuckle his chunky belt, and pull his torn jeans down to his feet and off completely. His underwear followed – Patrick really hadn’t expected to see Pete if he was wearing underwear – and then the damp shirt. Completely naked, save for the watch on his wrist and socks on his feet, Patrick turned his back to Pete and bent down over the twin bed. Pete loved to see the kid splayed out like that, arms thrown out on either side and plush ass on display for him. The pink comforter looked cozy beneath the boy’s body, so at least Pete didn’t have to worry about his comfort.</p><p>“How many do you think you deserve?” he asked, unbuckling his own belt. He had no intention of using it, but Pete wanted Patrick to hear the sound and assume. There was silence for a moment before the boy responded, “Ten, sir.”</p><p>“Ten?”</p><p>“Yes, sir,” Patrick confirmed. He didn’t elaborate further.</p><p>Pete nodded, despite that the teen couldn’t see him. “I think that’s fair.” Coming right up behind Patrick, he drew back his hand and released it, hearing a resounding <em>smack</em> as his hand collided with the boy’s ass. He heard the boy groan from the impact, but it was clear that Patrick was trying to remain silent, so Pete let it slide. His hand stung and he could see a pink flush appearing on the boy’s skin. Nine more to go…Patrick could handle that.</p><p>And handle it he did. There were small sounds throughout – with his arms stretched out across the bed, Patrick couldn’t bite his fist to keep quiet – but Pete was impressed nonetheless with how little he heard come from the teen before him.</p><p>After giving the final smack, Pete gave the boy a moment to come down from the rush that being punished always gave him. “You were so good for me, baby boy,” he told him.</p><p>Patrick said nothing. Pete caressed his red, sensitive ass gently.</p><p>Then, the man dropped to his knees and took both red cheeks in his hands, spreading them and putting Patrick’s gorgeous little pucker on display. The teen had been very good for him, so he deserved a little something in return. Leaning in, Pete darted out a tongue to trace the ring around Patrick’s hot little hole. The boy almost squealed as he squirmed — Pete didn’t often do this for him, so it surely came as a shock. Pete smiled at the thought before pushing his tongue beyond the ring and into Patrick’s tight ass.</p><p>God, if everyone could see Patrick up there, under Pete’s hands, under Pete’s mouth, at Pete’s command.</p><p>Patrick was <em>his</em> and nobody downstairs even knew, but that was what made it exciting. Pete added a finger into the tight pucker, twisting inside his baby boy and listening to the teen muffle his whines by biting into the fuzzy pink comforter. That had to taste bad, but Patrick wouldn’t say a thing. Patrick would be good for Pete as the man added a second finger.</p><p>“You like that, baby?” he asked, licking a strip down from Patrick’s hole to his balls while thrusting in a third digit. The boy jerked and Pete chuckled. “Of course you do. Are you ready for daddy’s cock?”</p><p>There was a muffled sound in the affirmative coming from the bed.</p><p>“I think you deserve it, baby boy.”</p><p>Pete took a moment to push off his jeans and remove his shirt. His hard cock sprung free – unlike Patrick, Pete wasn’t wearing any underwear – and, as naked as the boy before him, Pete grabbed the sensitive cheeks again. He guided his cock toward the stretched hole, which probably could have used more stretching but he knew Patrick could take it, and pressed the head past the ring. The boy gasped, and Pete continued to press in further, agonizingly slow until he bottomed out, balls pressed right up against Patrick’s red ass.</p><p>Only then, when he filled the boy completely, did Pete stop. He wanted the teen to beg him to move, beg him for more, but he knew Patrick wouldn’t do it.</p><p>Patrick would be good for Pete.</p><p>So, after giving the boy a moment to adjust to the hardness inside of him, Pete withdrew slowly and, just as the tip was about to pop back out, thrust back in hard and deep. This time Patrick couldn’t contain the cry that came from him, but he quickly bit down on the comforter again. Pete reached down to Patrick’s arms and closed a hand over each wrist, holding him down as he thrust into the young, jailbait ass over and over. The strawberry blonde hair before him became more and more mussed as the boy’s face continued to grind into the blanket in sync with Pete’s thrusts, and god, what a beautiful sight it was.</p><p>Pete wished he had planned far enough ahead to bring a plug, but he hadn’t known Patrick would be at the party until he walked in the door and <em>sensed</em> him.</p><p>It would have been delightful to fill the boy’s ass and then plug him up, sending him back down into the party not only filled with Pete’s come, but also with the pressure of something inside him, making him twitch every time he moved. Pete would remember that for next time, maybe make a habit of always carrying a plug just in case.</p><p>As he felt himself getting closer, Pete suddenly had an idea. He pulled out of Patrick and turned the boy over onto his back.</p><p>Before the boy could say anything – not that he would – Pete thrust right back into him.</p><p>He leaned down to bite Patrick’s soft, adolescent nipples, eliciting a whine from the boy on the bed. He bit and sucked some more, until Patrick’s nipples were slightly swollen, before moving up to his neck and grazing over it with his teeth. Pete wasn’t going to bite him there – not where the whole world would see the hickey that hadn’t been there before he disappeared upstairs, conveniently at the same time as Pete – but he let his teeth scratch the boy’s skin gently as he continued moving upward to the ears. There, at least, he nibbled a bit.</p><p>The teen couldn’t remain quiet anymore, that much was certain, especially without the blanket to bite into while Pete had him on his back.</p><p>But those sounds were exactly what Pete needed, exactly what would bring him to the edge.</p><p>He pulled out the moment he felt his orgasm building, and quickly climbed up over the teen below him, holding out his throbbing cock over the kid’s face. In mere moments, the boy was covered in Pete’s come, dripping down from his eyelashes, over his nose, to his lips and his chin. Patrick’s tongue darted out to taste Pete upon his lips.</p><p>“Do you think you deserve to come?” Pete asked him, almost breathless.</p><p>The boy nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said eagerly, voice rough from all the muffled (and unmuffled) sounds he had been making.</p><p>“Please, daddy.”</p><p>It was the <em>daddy</em> part that got Pete. He loved to refer to Patrick as his baby boy, to view him as the gorgeous little no longer innocent teenager that he was, but Patrick was more hesitant to call Pete any such names in response. He usually stuck to <em>sir</em> and Pete was okay with that, but hearing <em>daddy</em> come from those come-stained lips, that flushed face and those unfocused eyes – though that could easily have been because Patrick elected not to wear his glasses to the party – Pete could not resist giving Patrick what he wanted.</p><p>Sliding back down his body, Pete took the boy’s cock in his hand, delighting at the little gasp he heard above him. He closed his lips over the tip and sucked, stroking his hand up and down at the bottom of the shaft.</p><p>It barely took any time before the boy let out another cry and Pete’s mouth filled with salt.</p><p>He swallowed down every last drop, still jerking Patrick even well after he had finished to ensure that he got each bit, before finally releasing the slowly softening dick. Patrick was panting as though the activity had taken so much out of him — and well, it probably had. He was seventeen, he would probably be able to go again within minutes – Pete certainly could still at twenty-two – but Patrick didn’t do sports like Pete, he didn’t have the same endurance.</p><p>After giving the boy a couple minutes to regain his breath, Pete pulled him into a sitting position and leaned in to kiss his soft, still salty lips. The teen reciprocated slowly, but Pete could feel his smile under his mouth. It caused a warmth in his chest.</p><p>“You did good, baby boy,” Pete told him again, brushing the boy’s sweaty bangs out of his face.</p><p>Patrick nodded but didn’t say anything.</p><p>Then— “My mom is gonna kill me if I come home tonight in a shirt that reeks of beer.”</p><p>Pete couldn’t help but laugh as he leaned in and pressed another quick kiss to the teen’s lips. He then jumped up as Patrick wiped his face on the fuzzy blanket (ew) and started rummaging around for their clothes on the floor, tossing to Patrick his torn jeans and Pete’s too-tight shirt. “Are you kidding me?” the boy asked. “This will never fit me, and everyone will know if I go down there wearing your clothes.”</p><p>“Everyone’s too drunk to care,” Pete reasoned. “They’ve probably already forgotten that you’re here.”</p><p>“Way to make me feel special,” the teen mumbled.</p><p>Despite his initial protest, Patrick pulled Pete’s shirt over his head. It was definitely too tight on his rounder body, but it actually wasn’t that bad — Pete was certain that everyone at the party had drank enough that they wouldn’t even notice. Meanwhile, Pete threw on Patrick’s damp shirt, secretly reveling the fact that he was wearing something that belonged to Patrick. Pete might go out and sleep with girls at parties on a semi-regular basis, but he belonged to Patrick just as much as the teenager belonged to him.</p><p>As the two exited the room and closed the door behind them, Pete put his hand on his shoulder to stop Patrick before they continued downstairs. “Oh, and ’Trick?” he began, breathing huskily on the boy’s ear.</p><p>“Next time you deceive me, you’ll be wearing a plug for the rest of the night.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Also check out <a href="https://falloutboywife.tumblr.com/post/637420234147577856/the-ribbon-on-his-wrist-says-do-not-open-before">Nyan's gift to me</a>, which is surprisingly complementary to this fic that she hadn't even read yet when drawing!</p><p>Follow me on social media! I'm <b>padawanryan</b> on <a href="https://padawanryan.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a>, <a href="https://twitter.com/PadawanRyan">Twitter</a>, and <a href="https://www.instagram.com/padawanryan/">Instagram</a>. ✌️</p></blockquote></div></div>
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